


Totally Jinxed It

by bad_decisions



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 01:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1570913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bad_decisions/pseuds/bad_decisions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is stuck in the house that does not exist. </p>
<p>He’s got a pocket radio with him, obviously. </p>
<p>Spoilers for Parade Day. Mentions of torture and suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Totally Jinxed It

He should have known better. He should have known better. He should have known better.

Announcing he needed outside help to leave the house, _live_ _on the radio_.

_But I am not without them. Not at all._

He curses himself. Fate is immune to tempting, even here, but whatever had caused whatever had happened apparently is not.

He is afraid. The helpless, paralyzing, sickening kind of afraid. His chest is tight and his shoulders are high and shaking and his eyes are staring blankly at something far beyond the empty house. He isn’t crying. He’s done that already.

He’d turned on his pocket radio while investigating the house. Cecil’s broadcast came in short phrases every few minutes. They’d already established that for some reason time was passing more quickly inside the house than out, so he wasn’t surprised.

He’d listened to the disjointed weather as he set up meters in the attic. He’d been smiling. He’d been sure of success. He really had.

The weather ended eventually, and Cecil came back. Carlos’s smile dropped as he listened. He was worried. He abandoned his equipment and sat down, waiting for each crackly sentence.

They’d failed. He felt sadness, regret, horror. He felt a lot of things.

Then the broadcast ended and he stopped feeling any of them.

He ran to the door, he pounded on it, he shouted.

He screamed and cried and begged.

Nothing happened.

No one came to let him out.

He slid down the wall in the end, voice gone from exertion, numb.

He’s been sitting there for a while.

He doesn’t know how long.

He gave his watch to Cecil.          

Cecil, literally worlds away from Carlos.

Cecil, who is clever and brave and loving.

Cecil, who stood up and spoke out, and found that his voice could only do so much.

Cecil, who will right now be suffering for his bravery and his love, his voice cracking in screams. They won’t kill him. They’ll break him. They’ll empty him of everything that makes him Cecil.

He’ll wear a grin with nothing behind it.

It’s what they always knew would happen if they failed, but they’d been confident of victory.

They’d been stupid.

Carlos’s radio will start playing Cecil’s show again at some point, whenever it’s tomorrow outside the house, and he has never dreaded anything more.

He should have given Cecil a suicide pill.


End file.
